In The Chronicle of Ten Days
by DMWinchester
Summary: No time to heal and mend new and past wounds in between. Now, there is time. Time to try and fix Dean. I needed to bring the subject up with him, but with everyone in the room. It was time to heal wounds. He won't like it. He will fight. But he has people who care for him, people who can see him slipping, who want to see the real Dean. And I believe I know a way, if he won't.
1. Authors Note: 2016

Authors Note!: (yay! I've partially have my life together)

For those who have been waiting for an update from me shall be glad to hear that I am finally getting on the ball again. And wish to apologize for the delay of future chapters. You are all the full for each story I write. So, hopefully now, I can get rolling again.

Much love,

DMWinchester


	2. The Beginning (Ch1)

It's been eight years since I left for college; six when I started hunting with Dean again; five since Dad died; three since Dean died and Castiel brought him back 4 months later; 16 months since the Apocalypse ended; 9 months since my humanity returned (with everything in between) with my memories; 6 months since Castiel, Ellen, Jo, and Dad were resurrected by a heavenly force. No time to heal or mend new and past wounds in between.

Now there is time, time to try and fix Dean. I needed to bring the subject up with him, but with everyone in the room. It was time to heal a lifetime of wounds he's gathered. He won't like it, and he will fight. But he has people who care for him, people who can see him slipping, who want to be able to see the real Dean.

-Later That Day-

I silently headed into Bobby's house after a long day of repairing Baby, who was needing a lot of attention on her engine. Slipping into the living room, I froze where I stood. Everyone was there, including Cass. They all stood there with their arms crossed. What now? I asked myself.

"Hey guys. What's up?" I said, slapping on my mask.

"We need to talk, Dean." Dad answered in his usual serious voice.

"About what? Is something wrong, guys?" I asked, my mask slipped for a second. Why were they standing around like this?

"You, Dean." Sam answered.

"There's nothing to talk about." I said turning to leave, when the door blew shut. Leave it to Cass to use his friggin' angel powers.

"There is plenty to talk to you about, Dean." Cass answered, hinting the tone of when he slammed me against the wall and beat me up.

"Like what?" Being sarcastic. Again. But there really isn't anything to talk about on the subject they were suggesting.

"The wall, the mask, that you've made. It's beginning to crumble, Dean. We can all see it. You need to talk to us. Share the load!" Jo replied, frustrated.

"I can't." I replied, glaring at them.

"Well, then we use another way to stop you from caving on yourself, Dean." Ellen replied, "It hurts to see you crumbling down like this, hon. You have to trust us."

"I can't do that.." I said softly, hoarsely, "I don't know how."

"You don't have to, Dean. Sam has a plan." Ellen replied gently, turning towards Sam, "Explain to him, Sam."

"There is a way you can talk to us, but it's a potion. Your body will act like your personality, then that personality will open up to us. It should only last a day or two. Depends on the person. Plus, it's easy. No mess ups."

"No."

"W-what?" Sam replied, shocked.

"Why the hell not." Dad demanded, and I flinched. They all noticed.

"Something is bothering you, Dean. And you need to let it go." Bobby added pointedly.

Cass walked closer as I turned my head away from him; I didn't want to look into his eyes, to find the fear of the truth -of what he'd find, "Look at me, Dean." I didn't, instead he laid his hand under my chin and lightly pulled my face towards him, "You've helped all of us with so much. Please allow us to help you now, Dean."

"You can't let me know what you put it in. So I can drink it unconsciously." I whispered, "Can I go now?"

"Of course, Dean. Thank you." He whispered back to me. The door opened and I ran out within the junkyard.

"Why'd you let him go?" John asked frustrated.

"He told me he would do it, only if he unconsciously does it. Then he asked to go. I permitted him to leave." I replied, "He is outside, pulling Baby up to the house. We should be making the potion right now, correct? We should do it tonight. So when he wakes up tomorrow, we can get started. No turning back then."

"He's right, Sam." Jo added.

"Let's get started." Sam replied.

It only took us an half an hour to make, and were now fixing dinner; I state: "I think the only way he'd take it is if we put it in a food or drink."

"We should give it to him with something he doesn't drink often." Dad replied.

"What was that?" Ellen asked.

"Tea." He replied, "He stopped drinking it after your mother died, Sam, and afterwards he was never really sick either."

"Okay." Bobby asked, "What kind? I've got some in stock."

"Black English Breakfast Tea: 'Good all day long.' Your mother would say, Sam." Dad smiled, that made me smile a little too. He's been real open about mom. He even told me a little about their rocky marriage -adding to what I've found from Dean's memories in Heaven.

"I've got loads of that. I'll be back." Bobby replied, leaving the room.

"Are you totally sure about this, Sam?" Ellen asked, "This potion will hold nothing back, it'll bring up raw feelings in your brother. We'll have no idea what is in that head of his. How much he's seen when he's been alone."

"It's a risk we have to take. We won't get anything accomplished any other way." I replied, nodding my head. Bobby walks back into the room with a tea box.

"I've got plenty more of this in stock. Plus others and coffee." Bobby said, setting the box down and grabbing the tea kettle. Then I noticed Jo looking out the kitchen window.

"What is it?" I asked, everyone turned to look in her direction -except for Castiel.

"He looks upset. But he looks like he's praying or something."

We walk over to the window, and look outside. There he was, looking up at the sky, leaning over Baby's hood. He wasn't all that far from the house, in fact, I could see his face clearly from here. His face looked sad, lost -not a look we've seen before, and tears threatening to fall. The next thing we hear is Castiel, we all turn in his direction.

"What's wrong, Castiel." Ellen asked.

"He is asking for something I can give him." Then, before another word was said from any of us could be said, he disappeared. Then reappeared, standing next to Dean.

A hand placed itself on my shoulder, then a voice from behind me said, "Dean." Cass. I thought, I could recognize it anywhere.

I turn to face him and said, "I'm glad you came, Cass."

Cass stepped closer, "What is wrong, Dean?"

"I-I don't think I can do this, if I really even want to-" I was interrupted by Cass wrapping his arms around my waist, and I couldn't help but wrap my arms, tightly, around his neck. I mumbled into the crook of his neck, "Thank you, Cass."

"You're welcome." He continued to hold me, but I pull away.

"Why do you all even need to know?" I asked softly.

"It's the only way we know that can save you, Dean. You're fading and I can't lose you again."

My gaze softened, "How will talking or seeing my personality help?"

"It is the act of letting go that will save you, Dean." A tear fell from my eye. Then a hand caressed my face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumb. "We are your family. We want, and need, to help you." I look into his eyes, so blue that God must had been truly happy as he created -born- Cass into an angel. He looked so truthful, determined. So much I could kiss him- Wait. Where did that come from?

"Fine. But you all might not like who you all see. Plus, I don't like this one bit."

Cass grabbed a hold of my shoulders, tightly, and said, "If only you knew how important fixing you means to me." His face became sad.

"If only I had the courage to tell everyone who I am myself, without some stupid potion's help." I replied softly; I gave a soft chuckle.

"You are strong, Dean." With a small smile, he said, "Come inside, we have dinner ready for you. After that, we will get you to bed."

"Okay, Cass. I trust you on this one."

...

"How're repairs doing?" Bobby asked.

"It's been good so far, hasn't been too hard." I answered, stifling a yawn. We were sitting in the living room talking, and I was finishing my tea. Haven't had any in years, and I was getting tired all the sudden.

"That's good. You gonna do a new paint job on her, too?" Dad asked.

"Eventually, when I'm a hundred percent done." I grinned, then yawned again. I finished my cup then found myself nodding off. Sure hope this works...


End file.
